reflecting on life and memory, purpose and dreams

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the experiment

the price of whispering
staying at home, thinking
what is the promise, the secret?
where to search for the favourite
growing, flowering
found in the night forest
obsessively, drunkenly
the conversation turned to peace
and thanks
for the hidden sunrise
for the ordered breath
the typewriter thrilled
as we struggled with our
dangerous, sensitive
experiment

“Found Poetry” – went through recent tweets in order taking one word from each (ok – skipped a few) – then cobbled this together with a few changes in order – mysteriously still has some sense of meaning.
Not sure incomprehensible is for me – now my brain hurts.

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3 thoughts on “the experiment”

Sweet, love the mood and feel. I suspect that unless you write in Klingon (alright, I’ve considered it) meaning comes across, although different readers might pick up on different aspects. And being deadly serious, isn’t it fun?